


Dog Tags

by eskimita, Heavenlea6292



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, NCIS, Supernatural
Genre: Alternative Universe- No Supernatural Creatures, Dad Tony is adorable, F/M, Little bit of Gibbs Bashing, M/M, Mary Winchester Lives, McGee bashing, Possessive Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Tony DiNozzo, Tony adopts a kid, Ziva Bashing, alternative universe, alternative universe-Marine Dean, dog tag kink, this is a mishmash of awesome and you should read it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-12 22:29:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7125022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eskimita/pseuds/eskimita, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavenlea6292/pseuds/Heavenlea6292
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>20 years ago, Tony was assigned a 'little brother' for a sociology project. For two years, everything he did for fun, he did with Dean Winchester. Then one night, Dean and his family disappeared without a trace. Tony had put it out of his mind, tucked away in the back of his memory, until a case of treason brought it back with a bang.</p>
<p>Now Tony, along with his niece, must navigate the life of a Winchester as he, Lucy, Sam, and Dean search for the person who has framed Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This crazy idea came out of the mind of myself and my best friend for one reason: Tony has a dog tag kink and Dean has a Tony kink.   
> We threw Sam and Lucy in there because we could.  
> There are already 5 chapters of this written, but not yet edited. As they are edited, they will be posted.

Grab your gear." Gibbs breezed through the bullpen, coffee in hand. "We've got a Marine sniper selling information to terrorists."

"Boss?" Tony shoved his phone back in his pocket, making a mental note to finish his text to Lucy in the car. Throwing his backpack over his shoulder, he jogged to the elevator behind Gibbs. "Marine snipers don't usually turn treasonous. Their moral code is even stronger than the rest of the Marines. Are we sure about this information?"

"You think I wouldn't check, DiNozzo?" The one raised eyebrow spelled out just how stupid Tony's question was, leaving a light dusting of red on top of Tony's ears. "Three targets in the last month somehow miraculously weren't where they were supposed to be when the shots were supposed to be taken. Instead, they were taking out targets of their own, targets that they shouldn't have been able to find without our intel. Does that sound like I'm mistaken?"

"No boss. Not mistaken." Tony resisted the urge to run his hand over the back of his neck, instead clenching it at his side and digging his nails into his palm. He knew better than to make stupid comments like that.

"Maybe this is a snoozer agent for the Taliban?" Ziva nudged Tony out of her way as she pushed into the elevator, wedging between him and Gibbs. "They are becoming more common, are they not?"

"Sleeper, Officer David. The phrase is Sleeper Agent."

"You know what I mean, Tony."

"Marines don't betray their country." The elevator opened and they made their way to the car, Tony beating Ziva to the passenger door by mere seconds. He ignored her glare as he slipped into the seat, quickly fastening his seatbelt so that he wouldn't go flying when Gibbs took off. "I've never met one who hasn't had that innate sense of loyalty built in, especially not a sniper."

"We'll find out now, won't we, DiNozzo. Text McGee and tell him we're headed to Annapolis. He can start the background information here."

"Yes boss, on it boss." Tony pulled out his phone and quickly sent a text off to McGee, taking a few seconds to finish the text to Lucy and sending that one as well. Who knew when he would be able to talk to his niece again with a case of treason on his plate.

With Gibbs behind the wheel, the drive to Annapolis took a third of the time it should, and they were pulling in to a spot by the bunkers in no time. Tony climbed out of the car and shouldered his backpack, taking a moment to squint into the sun at the Marines in various states of PT around them. One of the greatest things ever invented, PT was. When he noticed that Gibbs and Ziva were headed towards one of the picnic benches, he scurried to catch up, determined to ensure that his partner didn't notice his fascination with the sweaty Marines.

"Gunnery Sergeant Montes?" Gibbs held out his hand for the Gunny, shaking the other man's firmly. "Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. We're here to speak to the suspect. Where is he?"

"Agent Gibbs," Montes shook his head as he gestured towards the barracks, leading them that way. His posture remained professional, but the tone of his voice betrayed his thoughts on this whole affair. "I know what you're going to question him about, and I'm telling you that it makes no sense. Winchester's a good kid, great sniper. He beat your records, Sir. He would never betray his country like this."

"Well, Gunny, that's what we're here to find out. Thank you."

Gibbs led the way into the small room where the suspect sat, Tony right behind him. When Tony's eyes fell on the suspect, he froze, fighting back the shock that he knew was on his face. The face was older, tanner, more freckled, but those eyes and those lips, Tony would know them anywhere, even if he hadn't seen them in eighteen years. This wasn't the face of the boy that had disappeared in the middle of the night without a trace, but Tony could still see where that boy had been, could see how he had grown into this man. It was almost as if his entire world had focused in on this man, on the familiar features that Tony had never forgotten, on the changes that had taken place. Only Ziva's harsh elbow to his ribs had him moving to stand behind Gibbs, entire being still focused on the man sitting at the table.

"Well," Gibbs settled into his chair comfortably, pulling out a notebook and holding it in his hands. "Lance Corporal Winchester, I hear you've been accused of treason."

Dean's back immediately stiffened as he heard those damn words used in a sentence again for the thousandth time in the last couple hours- his name and treason. One day, his life had been normal, and the next he was being brought in front of his superiors, slapped in cuffs, and stuffed in a little room with nothing but his thoughts and a cot. Then they dragged him to this room to wait for federal investigators to come- come, he figured, to ship him off to Gitmo. He was no terrorist- it was his personal business to wipe parasites like that off the map, and business was boomin'. He'd never would betray his country, his family, everything he stood for. In Lance Corporal Dean Winchester's eyes, treason was unimaginable, so divorced from anything he'd ever been taught, every fiber of his being. It was not a mortal sin, it was the mortal sin. He was angry, furious, injured by the accusation, and he had little faith in the investigators who were coming, because if they were coming, that meant they'd made up their minds. They needed a head to present, and there his was.

He would never forget the look on Montes' face when he came in to inform him that NCIS was on it's way- the confusion, the hurt, the disappointment. It was a look that Dean hadn't had to deal with in years, not since he had told Sam that he was joining the Corps. Seeing it again on his commanding officer's face, on his friend's face, smarted more than a little bit.  
He didn't look over at the older man who had just spoken to him, or his cohorts. He knew what they were here for, and he knew his fate was sealed. Looking into the faces of the people who had come to escort him to his fate would do no good.

"That's what they tell me, sir," he said, finally turning to them with an angry smirk, "But I'm not a traitor. My mother raised me better than that, sir."

He glanced behind the old tugboat of a man to see a face he recognized- the blood draining out of his face, his mouth gaping. It was him. He knew that face, that frame, those eyes. A face from his childhood that never left the back of his mind, a man who he'd always wanted to see again, but never got up the courage to look up. After all, he was nearly a decade older than him, and why would he remember some snot nosed punk that he mentored 18 years ago? Still, Dean knew that face just as well as he knew his own. His mother had filled the mantel with pictures of Dean and Tony, pictures that someone else would probably be embarrassed by, but Dean secretly treasured.

"Holy shit," he exhaled, blinking and willing the shock to clear away. This wasn't the time for a reunion, especially with his fear that this man he missed so much, this man he wanted desperately to see again, was going to be hand delivering him to Gitmo. Maybe, if by some miracle he managed to get out of this, he could look Tony up again after this was over, take him out for a beer. The fact that he knew he wouldn't be getting out of this was inconsequential.

Tony's heart clenched at the anger in Dean's voice, at the shock in his face. There, just for a moment, he had seen the twelve year old boy who had followed him around faithfully. It was heartbreaking, given the circumstance they were in right now, to see those emotions on that face. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Dean hadn't committed treason. Even if this wasn't the twelve year old kid that Tony remembered, there was no way that this man had committed treason. Tony's gut told him that Dean was innocent.

"Why don't you tell me your side of the story." Gibbs was laying out folders on the table, folders that Tony knew contained pictures of the targets that had gotten away, targets that Dean had been ordered to kill. It was a tactic straight out of Interrogation 101, one that Tony knew that Dean would never fall for, even if he hadn't been on edge already. "Right now, what I have points to you selling information, to you allowing enemies of the State to get away. So I want to hear your side of the story. Tell me why I should believe you."

Tony's phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to glance over the background information that McGee had sent, most of it things that he'd already known, even if it had been eighteen years. The fact that John and Mary had divorced was a surprise, but Tony couldn't say that he hadn't seen it coming. John Winchester had been a complete bastard back then, in the bottle far more often than he was out of it. Tony doubted he had changed much. Even Dean's disciplinary record wasn't much of a surprise to Tony. He remembered just how much Dean struggled with authority, just how much he bucked under rules. That he had done so well after adjusting spoke to just how hard Dean worked.

"I find it hard to believe," Gibbs was saying, tone casual, "That a man with a record like yours would betray his country. Unfortunately, the evidence that we have against you tells a different story than your record. Why don't you help me make sense of it all?"

Tony's phone buzzed again, probably Lucy telling him that she was going out with her boyfriend, so he ignored it, choosing instead to focus on Dean's face, to watch Dean's reactions to Gibbs. He would know, his gut would tell him, if Dean was guilty. Tony was sure of it. Right now, his gut was telling him that there was something fishy about this, about everything involved in this affair.  
Dean didn't need to look at the pictures. He knew who they were, he'd already been shown them when he was accused the first time. He just kept evenly meeting the older man's eyes, not backing down. He had nothing to hide, at least not from him. Tony, well...that may've been a different story.

"I get a target and their location. I go to the location and eliminate the target, If I get there and the target isn't there, I can't shoot. I do my job, sir," he paused, his smart mouth getting the best of him, "Listen, am I a pain in the ass? Every day of the week. Was I a punk who got into trouble? Damn straight. If you had a hot kid who was legal, I'd probably sleep with them. I drink too much, I have a bad temper, I drive too fast. I can admit that I've got my faults- but I'm no traitor. My loyalty doesn't have a price tag, sir. If it did, I wouldn't be a Marine." He glanced over as Tony's phone went off, giving him a small smile. He may not be able to flirt outright with him, but he could still tease him, still let Tony know that he cared. "Mr. Popularity over there," he said lightly before turning back to the old tugboat, shrugging, "Clearly whatever you have is watertight, so my only question is..." he swallowed shallowly, "Do accused traitors of the state get a phone call before you put them in a hole to rot or is that just not a thing for those of us bound for Gitmo?"

"DiNozzo, give the Lance Corporal his phone call. Then get him to the car. We're going back to NCIS."

Tony stepped forward as Gibbs packed up his folders, quickly deleting the message from Lucy before handing over his phone so that Dean could make his call. When he was sure that Ziva and Gibbs were deep in conversation, he leaned over Dean, just brushing against him lightly.

"I know you didn't do it, De."

He stood back up, keeping his face very carefully neutral. There was no doubt in his mind that Dean wasn't a traitor, that Dean hadn't done this. Tony just had to figure out a way to prove it without giving away that he knew Dean. If that came out, Gibbs would have him dropped from the case without question. He was compromised, Tony knew that. Dean, even if they hadn't seen each other in eighteen years, meant more to Tony than he should, had since he was a kid. Gibbs would never let him work this case if he knew that.

Whatever else happened, Tony was going to get Dean out of this mess. He could worry about his emotional crisis over the other man later.

Dean couldn't stop his shoulders from sagging with relief at the knowledge that he wasn't going straight to a cage for the rest of his life- he'd get a phone call and they were taking him to NCIS. Whatever they had apparently wasn't that watertight, or maybe they were just gonna try and shake him down for more information. Either way, he didn't care.

He felt Tony brush against him, his voice low and quiet, but the same as it had been when he was a kid. He closed his eyes, keeping himself from reacting any more than that. The old man didn't need to know that Tony knew him- and did he really know him? The last time they'd seen each other, he was freaking twelve. But Tony remembered him- and he didn't know how to feel about that at the moment. He didn't know how to feel about anything. All he knew was he needed to call his mother. He lifted his hands out to Tony for the phone, his hands still despite the stress he was under. He met Tony's eyes briefly, hoping with that quick gaze that he could communicate his thanks, taking the phone and dialing quickly.

"Mom?" he said into the receiver, his voice cracking for the first time in a long time, "Mom, ah, I'm in some trouble. No- I'm not hurt, I uh...I need Sammy to come to the NCIS HQ in DC. I'm.." he couldn't help it- he couldn't like to her, "I'm in some deep shit, Mom." He paused, listening to her speak, reassuring him that everything would be fine, that Sam would be there. He barely got through telling her he loved her and hanging up, wondering if he'd get to say it to her face again. He wasn't an idiot. He knew what happened to traitors. Traitors end up getting taken to a little concrete courtyard with a bag on their head and shot. Or worse- they get stuck in a cage until they die.

"Home sweet home," he said, setting the phone on the table, drumming his palms against the top. He put up his shield, winking at the female agent when she looked over, "Can't wait."

"Stand up, hands behind your back." Ziva was obviously in a bad mood, if she was being this abrupt with a suspect as cute as Dean. Usually, with the cute ones, she at least pretended to care about them. With Dean though, she was just being plain nasty.

Tony stood back as Ziva went about cuffing Dean, unable to watch as the other man was led out of the small room in the barracks. Seeing Dean arrested really wasn't something that he wanted to watch. When he'd been nothing more than a hot-headed college jock forced to do community service and 'adopt' Dean as his 'little brother,' Tony had feared that something like this was going to happen to the kid. Dean had been troubled by his dad's alcoholism and temper, had been stubborn and Tony had been convinced that nothing he could do would change the fact that Dean was going to end up in jail. To see Dean led away in cuffs would just hurt that part of Tony that had thought he'd had one positive influence on a kid.

Dean didn't bother with keeping up the jokes- he was emotionally exhausted, and he just wanted to get the fuck out of there and back to DC. He stood up carefully, trying to look as compliant as possible. He didn't want to give anyone any excuses. He put his hands behind his back, staring straight ahead as the cold metal closed around his wrists, keeping his body rigid. His fight or flight instincts were kicking in- he didn't like being restrained or manhandled, and it seemed like he was gonna have to get used to it short, fast, and in a hurry. He didn't drop his head as they led him through the barracks though- he kept his head high, staring straight ahead with an angry expression. Yeah, he was scared, but he was fucking angry. And being afraid made him even angrier.

Once Ziva and Dean were out, he snatched up his phone, glancing up to make sure that Ziva was truly gone, before opening up messages. 'I'm going out with Sam. He has work to do, but he said I can come with him. I'll see you tonight.'

Part of Tony said that he should probably lecture the seventeen year old for assuming that she was allowed to go out with her boyfriend without asking, but he shook that off. In the month that he'd had custody of Lucy, he'd learned that ordering her to do things worked out poorly for him. He sent off a confirmation of her actions before rushing after his team, slipping into the car beside Dean since Ziva had beat him to the front seat.

* * *

 

The drive back to NCIS was awkward for Tony, silent as it was. He couldn't help but fidget with his cufflinks, resisting the urge to even try to communicate with Dean. With Gibbs and Ziva in the front, there was no way he would be able to have a private conversation. Instead of even trying, he was silent, not even playing on his phone like he usually would.

He spent the whole car ride in silence, staring at the back of the old man's head, running through scenarios, trying to figure out who would put his head on the chopping block like this. He could feel Tony's body next to his, close enough that if Dean stretched out , they'd be touching. He could feel him fidgeting, wanting to laugh. Tony's pokerface was fantastic, but his body gave him away.

When they got back, Tony helped Dean out of the car carefully, one hand wrapped around the other man's bicep to help him keep his balance. He led Dean to an interrogation room, barely resisting the urge to shuffle his feet now that they were alone. Instead, he stood with his back to the two way mirror, forcing stillness into his body as they waited for Dean's brother to get there. Part of Tony was surprised that Sam had become a lawyer, the kid he remembered had been into soccer, not studying for school. Sure, he'd gotten good grades from what Tony could recall, but he'd been determined to be a famous soccer player, not a lawyer.

When Tony held his bicep as he got out of the car, he didn't jerk away like he normally would've. Instead, he let Tony lead him through NCIS and into an interrogation room, complying without a fuss. When they were finally alone, he half expected Tony to speak to him, to say something, but he was silent. It was odd, watching Tony stand there, looking so formal and official. this was not the same man he remembered from his childhood. This was someone else entirely, almost a complete stranger. He fixed his green eyes on him, sitting back in his seat.

"Do you all have names, or should I just give you nicknames?" he asked casually, bouncing his knee with nervous energy. He knew they were probably being watched, but he didn't know how much longer he could keep playing like he didn't know exactly who Tony was. As it was, he was barely controlling the urge to

"Small, dangerous, and beautiful is Officer Ziva David, Mossad. I wouldn't mess with her if I was you," Tony watched as Dean's knee bounced, wanting to say something to comfort the boy, but unable to think of anything. As he introduced himself, he allowed just a little bit of his customary flirting to enter his voice, a small smirk on his face. "I'm Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Tall, brooding, and scary is Gibbs."

"Mossad, that explains the man grip," Dean joked, fidgeting like a kid again, "I feel like you added that very just so that your title is longer than mine." When he was a kid, being around Tony had made him feel calm and safe. He didn't need to be on his toes with him all the time, and Tony- even after they'd moved- was somewhat of a security blanket for him in an unspoken way.  
But seeing him again under these circumstances were crossing the wires in his head- Tony wasn't there to help him or keep him safe. Tony wasn't just Tony anymore, he was Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS. He was investigating Dean for treason. When it came right down to it, Tony was dangerous now, and Dean had no choice but to keep his walls up, in case someone exploited something. In case Tony exploited what he knew about Dean to get what he wanted.

And yet, after telling him their names, he didn't say anything. No questions, no whispered remarks, not even eye contact. In fact, it seemed like Tony was making a point of not speaking to him unless it was absolutely necessary. He watched him closely as he looked down at his phone and sighed, remembering the many times he'd had a different view of that profile, that expression; the many times he'd heard him sigh like that. He rubbed his hands together nervously, biting his lip as Tony left the room, the walls closing in on him. He was fine in tight spaces when he was their of his own choice and could, in all reality, leave if he wanted- like a ship, or the barracks. But here, he was trapped like an animal. He prayed for the first time since his mother last dragged him to church at 13, begging for one last break.

Tony had lapsed into silence after the introductions, not knowing what to say to Dean, how to talk to him without giving away too much to the rest of NCIS. His phone beeped, indicating the arrival of Dean's brother, and Tony sighed. This could only mean that interrogation was going to start soon. "I'll be right back. Gotta go get your kid lawyer."

Slipping out of the interrogation room, Tony hurried to the bullpen so that he could lead Sam to Dean. The last time he'd seen the kid, he was an eight year old midget. It would be interesting to see what he looked like now, what he had become as an adult.

* * *

 

Sam was busy trying to keep up with Lucy, hefting his bag on his shoulder as she dragged him through NCIS. Sam had agreed for her to go long for a few reasons, but he wasn't above admitting that one of them was hoping she would have some pull with whoever had booked Dean on these bullshit whatever they were charges. Dean was a lot of things, but he'd cleaned up his act when he got into The Corps, something Sam always admired about his brother, even if they never really talked about it. Their mother was worried to death and Sam was too- Dean was smart, but he had a bad attitude when someone pissed him off and being arrested probably had him seeing red.

Sam just hoped that whoever was working Dean's case would listen to reason, would let Sam figure out how to best defend his brother from mess he'd walked into.

"Uncle Tony!" Tony froze at that voice, at the small figure throwing herself at him, the one thing he had done his best to keep secret from almost everyone at NCIS. His arms automatically wrapped around her as she clung to him, barely stopping to breathe as she started to rant. "Uncle Tony, Sam's brother was arrested. I have no idea what they think he did, but he didn't do it. He's annoying, but he isn't a criminal. You have to help him, please."

"Lucy," Tony looked beyond her brown hair to the giant of a man standing behind her, his face draining of color. He'd been dealing with the giant following his niece around for the past two weeks, glaring at the besotted puppy eyes that the young man aimed at his ward. Still, he'd never made this connection.Shit. Lucy's Sam and Dean's Sam... Fuck, this was not good. He ran his hand over the back of his neck, wanting nothing more than a drink right now. "Lucy, is Sam's brother named Dean?"

"Yes. Dean Winchester." She pulled away and frowned at him. "Why?"

Sam generally stayed quiet around Tony- they'd met a few times, had dinner a few times, but Sam knew that him being with Lucy was not something the older man was very okay with and he didn't want to push his luck. So naturally, Sam's family didn't come up, and now Lucy's uncle was apparently the guy who'd put his brother in handcuffs. He wasn't sure what it meant for Dean's chances, since Tony didn't particularly like him, but maybe it would help his case, to have some sort of connection to the investigators involved.

Gibbs was standing by his desk, a moue of disappointment on his face. Tony wasn't sure whether it was because Tony now had a connection to the case, because Lucy had showed up at the office when they'd agreed that she would be kept away from the rest of NCIS, or because Lucy's boyfriend was obviously older than her. No matter what it was, Tony knew that he was in for it. Tony shot him his best pleading look, begging for his help. Silently, the older man nodded, moving to extract Lucy from Tony's arms. "Ziva, take Mr. Winchester to his brother and begin the interview. McGee, I want to find out how that information was being sent. DiNozzo, you're with me. Come on Lucy, we need to talk to Ducky."

Everyone scrambled to do as Gibbs said, Ziva and McGee staring at Lucy with open confusion as she slipped Sam a kiss before following Gibbs to the elevator.

"Did she call him-?" McGee started, staring after Tony and the girl in shock.

Ziva was also staring at the retreating trio in disbelief. She did not like being surprised, and this had surprised her. "Yes, I believe she did. I was under the impression that he was an only child."

"Yeah, so was I. I'll look into it." McGee moved back to his computer, focusing on the new mystery at hand. He needed to find out what Tony was keeping from them.

If there was one thing that Dean and Sam had both inherited from their father, it was his pokerface. He kissed Lucy as she went off with Gibbs and Tony, his eyes fixing on Agent David.

"I'm Lance Corporal Dean Winchester's legal council," he said flatly, holding out his credentials, "I'll need to see my client immediately." He glanced over at the other agent, not remembering what Gibbs had called him, but commenting, "Don't you think it's a little unethical to use government property to spy on the private life of your coworker?"

McGee, who had been busy searching databases to find out who the mysterious Lucy was and what her connection to Tony was, shot Sam a nasty look, returning his gaze to his computer and smirking. "Don't you think it's a little unethical to be dating a seventeen year old?"

Ziva's eyes widened at that and she scurried around McGee's desk, completely forgetting that she was supposed to be taking Sam to the interrogation room. "She's Clive Paddington's daughter... I thought that Tony said that the only thing that his lawyers wanted was to collect on a debt that Tony owed. I would think that Tony would have told us if he was gaining custody of a child. The way he goes on and on about every other detail of his personal life... it is very odd that he did not mention this."

"Yeah, I would have thought so too. I'll keep looking into it."

"At least I have her and Agent DiNozzo's permission," he snorted, staring at them with contempt. Sam didn't like unprofessionalism, and he certainly didn't like seeing agents entrusted with gathering evidence for his brother's case doing something so...underhanded, especially to their own co-worker.

No wonder he's so closed off, he thought to himself, If these are the kind of vultures he works with.

He stared at the two of them incredulously, wanting to slam their heads together. Sam had met Gibbs before, worked with him once, and he respected the man, and despite Tony's (well warranted) suspicion of him, he respected him as well. That's why he stood there, shocked and furious, as they gossiped and invaded Tony and Lucy's privacy without even a shred of decency in his opinion. Like they were a sideshow attraction to gawk at. Sam had his fair share of being looked at like that, and it just pushed his buttons. He decided that he'd at the very least report them to Gibbs- and he kept notes in case he needed to call their character into question...if Dean needed him to.

"Are you two done?" he snapped as Ziva turned to face them, giving them both a nasty look. They didn't seem to care though, and Sam was more interested in getting to Dean at that point.

McGee looked up at Winchester's snap, having a small amount of decency to blush. He nudged Ziva's shoulder. "You better go get the interrogation started before Gibbs gets back up here."

Ziva nodded and returned to Sam, gesturing for him to follow her down the hall to the interrogation rooms. She opened the door in front of her, allowing Sam to enter. "I can give you five minutes alone before we start the interrogation."

When Ziva finally left him outside the door, he took a deep breath and stepped in the interrogation room.

* * *

  
In the elevator, Tony watched with dread as Gibbs flipped the switch, looking over at him and Lucy. "Explain how you know them, DiNozzo."

If he was a better liar, Tony would have attempted to lie to Gibbs, but he knew that it was futile. "Sam is Lucy's boyfriend. Until today, all I knew about him is that he's a JAG lawyer. I didn't make on the connection until I saw him today. I... knew them when they were younger. Their mom signed Dean up for the Big Brother program. I was his assigned brother. I haven't seen him for eighteen years, but Boss, I know he didn't do this. John Winchester instilled a sense of loyalty in those boys that's so strong that Dean would kill himself before he betrayed this country. There's no way he did this."

"People change a lot in eighteen years, DiNozzo." Gibbs glanced over at Lucy, his expression softening just a bit. Even if she wasn't his ward, Gibbs had become extremely protective of her the minute that he met her a month ago. "We'll talk about your boyfriend later."

"I distinctly remember Uncle Tony telling me that the rule was 'Never involve a lawyer' not 'never get involved with a lawyer.' I haven't broken your rules." Her smug smile had Tony laughing just a little bit, shaking his head. "Besides, I'm not an NCIS agent."

"That isn't the discussion we'll be having, young lady. Right now, you're going to go spend some time with Ducky while we figure out if this kid is guilty or not."

* * *

 

Sam leaned against the door of the interrogation room, thankful for the five minutes alone that he had to figure out what he had to dig his brother out of. Whatever it was, it was probably going to be a pain in the ass.

"You look like dog shit on a hot sidewalk," he said lightly as Dean looked up at him, flashing a careworn smile.

"Yeah, I feel like it too," he said, "Thanks for coming." Sam sat down next to him, rolling his eyes.

"As if I would've said no," he replied, giving Dean a concerned look, "What did you do?" Dean's smile immediately vanished, anger flashing in his eyes. Sam knew that look- his brother was furious.

"I didn't do anything," he replied, "They're saying I sold secrets to fucking terrorists."

Sam's eyes went wide, his eyebrows shooting up. Dean, of all people, being accused of treason? "Well I don't even need to ask if you're innocent," he snapped, Dean's fury rubbing off on him, "This isn't good."

"That's the understatement of the century," Dean said miserably, "Sammy, I'm fucked."

Sam shook his head quickly. "No, you aren't," he said, grabbing his brother's forearm and squeezing it, "Lucy's uncle is one of the investigators. His name is Tony-"

"Yeah, I know Tony," Dean said tiredly, not looking at him, "Still the same old Tony."

"What are you talking about?"

"You seriously don't remember Tony?" Dean asked, giving his brother an incredulous look. How could anyone not remember Tony? "Come on, he was my "Big Brother" for like, two years when I was 12. He was always around."

Sam sat back, flabbergasted. "Shit, that's right," Sam said quietly, "I can't believe I didn't recognize him."

"Yeah well, it was a long time ago," Dean said, brushing it off, "Besides, I don't want him doing me any favors. It'll just get him screwed over. So don't put any eggs in that basket."

Sam knew that Tony meant a lot to Dean- he remembered Dean bawling when they'd left, begging their father as they passed Tony's house as they left town to stop just for a minute so he could say goodbye. Of course, Dad just kept driving and told Dean to stop his sniveling. Dear old Dad.

"I don't need to," he replied, "They're going to come at you, try to get you to say something they can use. So don't talk unless I give you the signal, okay?"

"Dude, I went through SERE," he snapped, "I know how to handle their pansy psychobabble bullshit."

Sam never actually forgot that Dean had to go through the SERE training- he just preferred not to think about it. But Dean was right- with that training, he really wasn't going to fall for the usual mind games agents would play.

"I know," Sam said, "But just trust me on this- don't speak unless I give you the o-k." Dean rolled his eyes, giving his brother a small smile.

"Okay, bossypants," he said jokingly, "My life is in your hands. Literally. Don't get me locked up."

Sam didn't have time to respond as the door opened, both of them stiffening and going silent.

Ziva entered the room silently, sitting down at the table across from the brothers and taking her time to lay out several different documents in front of her. When she had everything laid out, she clasped her hands together, looking up at Dean. "You have an exemplary service record. Twenty nine confirmed kills, no complaints from other men in your unit, no disciplinary complaints after your first year. You're quite the Marine, by all accounts."

She pushed a print out of an email towards Dean, tapping on it. "This was sent from your secure email account to a confirmed Taliban account. It gives the location your hit was supposed to come from, a time, and a list of high clearance military personnel left vulnerable during that time. Why did you do it?"

Dean didn't look down at the documents she laid out, just as he hadn't looked at the photographs of the Taliban members that he was supposed to have killed. In his mind, again, he didn't need to- whatever was on there was bullshit.

"I didn't," he said, "I've said it a thousand times before, and I'll say it again- my loyalty doesn't have a price tag on it. That's why most of the vermin turn coat."

"Agent David," Sam broke in, picking up the print out of the email, "How do you know this is Lance Corporal Winchester's secure e-mail? How do you know it wasn't faked or planted?" He gave her an icy look, setting it down, "Is there any other correspondence corroborating a standing relationship between this email account and the Taliban account? Do you have any record of currency or goods being exchanged for this information?"

"Take it easy," Dean said, patting Sam's shoulder. He picked up the email, lifting it to his face and blowing his nose loudly on it before crumpling it up and tossing it over her head like a basketball.  
"That's about all that fucking garbage is worth," he said, folding his hands, "Agent David. Mossad, right? Has anyone ever told you that you have an incredibly mannish grip? I mean, I've met other Marines with a more feminine grip than you."

"Dean..." Sam cautioned him, but he could see that Dean was sufficiently pissed and on a roll, and nothing short of a chair to the head would stop him.

"Listen, sweetheart, I've got nothing for you. If I knew something about this, knew who was doing it, well, I'd be in here for a crime I actually committed. I don't like rats. And you," he said, leaning forward and pointing at her, "You seem like a rat to me."

"Dean, that's enough," Sam snapped.

"I didn't fucking sell out my country," he spat, "And if I found out who did, you guys better keep me under lock and key, because I will blow their fucking brains out myself."

Sam had never seen Dean so incensed, never heard him speak so violently. Dean was always relatively tight-lipped about his job, comically so. But sitting next to him in this situation , in this room, he wasn't sitting next to his big brother. He was sitting next to Lance Corporal Dean Winchester, Scout Sniper, 29 confirmed kills and a seasoned soldier. It was a strange experience, like being next to a stranger, but one he knew everything about.

Dean was glaring straight through the agent, his jaw clenched to keep from saying anymore. He did his job, and he was damn good at it. He made the tough calls, did things that most people didn't have the capacity to. And yet here he was, just a week ago entrusted with highly classified information, being accused of not only betraying his country, but having a direct hand in the deaths of his fellow servicemen. It made him sick. It made him angry.

"The evidence says otherwise, Lance Corporal." Ziva continued to lay down emails, eight in all. "These are all emails between your account and the Taliban account. Each one deals with sensitive information. How do you explain them?"

* * *

  
"Jethro," Tony cringed when he saw the folders laid out on Ducky's table, years of psych evaluations and military career, things that Dean would hate for someone to be pouring over, "This young man that you have me studying is no traitor. The young man in question is exceedingly loyal, almost to a fault. The Marine Corps is his life. A man like this, a man with a record like this, would not betray his country."

"Well, Duck, the emails say otherwise." Gibbs, Tony had to admit, looked reluctant to believe that a fellow sniper could ever betray the oath that he had sworn. It was deeply personal to Gibbs anytime the Marine Corps was involved, much less a sniper like himself. "What did you get from his files?"

"Ah, now that is interesting." Ducky rounded the table, picking up a file and handing it over to Gibbs. "This was his review last year. 'Follows orders perfectly unless he believes they are the wrong call, avoids making close personal relationships with anyone, works far more than necessary.' Jethro, this man has given his life to his career. Much like yourself and our dear Anthony, he goes out of his way to ensure that nothing gets in the way of work. This is not a man that would take the risk of committing treason. I daresay that he was framed."

Tony let out a quiet breath of relief, relaxing just a bit. If Ducky knew that Dean didn't do it, then maybe Gibbs would get Abby and McGee focusing on finding out who really did do it. If Dean could walk away from this... maybe after he did walk away from this, Tony would talk to him, reconnect. It had been eighteen years, after all.

"Alright, Duck." Gibbs turned to go, looking over at Lucy, who had helped herself to some of Ducky's proper English tea. "You stay here. We're going to watch the interrogation. I do not want to see you up there."

"We'll see," Lucy sipped at her tea peacefully. "You never know where I'll wander."

"Lucy..." Tony sounded pained, stubbornness may run in the family, but sometimes he wished that Lucy had less of it. "Boss, if we leave her here, she may end up in MTAC."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Gibbs nodded. DiNozzo had a point. "Lucy, with me."

Ziva was getting nowhere. None of her interrogation tactics were working, Winchester kept stonewalling her when she changed tactics. She was just about to leave the room, take a break when a clatter of combat boots came from the hallway as Abby burst into the door, waving something around in a fit of excitement. "Ziva! Where's Gibbs? I need to talk to him right now. Come on, I need to find him."

Ziva stood, grabbing the papers off of the table quickly. "I'll be right back, gentlemen."

She followed Abby into the hallway, inadvertently leaving the door open behind her. "Abby, what is going on? Why do you need to speak with Gibbs?"

The sound of a young woman bursting through the door was the only thing that stopped Dean from losing his temper further, but it had him on his feet and ready to fight someone off. It wasn't until he felt Sam's hand on his arm that he slumped back in his seat, adrenaline pumping through him. He probably looked guilty as hell now- sweating and fidgeting, his eyes darting around, but goddamn it, it wasn't his fault. He watched nervously as Ziva left the room, leaving the door wide open. Maybe if he moved fast enough-

"He didn't do it! I have to go get Gibbs so that I can tell him. Come on."

Hearing those words come out of someone's mouth that wasn't related to him, wasn't a friend of his for the first time since this nightmare started left him in a weird state of limbo- he was so relieved he could've melted into the floor, he was exhausted, and he wanted to find out who the fuck would do that to him.

As he always did when Abby was looking for him, Gibbs rounded the corner, followed closely by Tony and Lucy. "Abs, what are you doing out of your lab?"

"Gibbs Gibbs Gibbs! He didn't do it, Gibbs!" Abby was jumping around, still waving her paper around. "I was going through his emails like you told me to and I found a backdoor. He was hacked, Gibbs! Someone else was using his email address to send the messages to the Taliban. He didn't do it."

Tony felt relief flow through him as Abby shoved the paper in Gibbs' face, relaxing slightly. Next to him, Lucy stepped closer, wrapping her hand around his arm. Tony looked down at her, carefully wrapping her in a hug and holding her close, ignoring the way Ziva gaped at them. "What's wrong, Lu?"

"Nothing," she shook off his worry, staring towards the open interrogation room. "Just, don't you think you should talk to him, if you knew him before? He might feel better if you're the one to tell him that you know he's innocent."

"Dean, it's fine, they know it wasn't you," Sam said excitedly, grabbing his arm and shaking him, "They figured it out, you're innocent."

"That's what I've been saying this whole time," he said in a dazed voice. He suddenly started thinking ahead to the future- would Montes hold it against him that he was suspected of treason? What about everyone else who heard about it- would they ever trust him again? Was this it, he'd just go back to his life like nothing ever happened?

"Dean...you okay?" Sam's voice cut through the ringing in his ears and he nodded.

"I'm fine, Sammy," he said, leaning back and rubbing his face. He dropped his hands, looking over at him and slapping his shoulder gently. "You did good," he said, "You know, for a scrawny spitfuck."

Sam laughed, rolling his eyes. "Not so scrawny anymore, jerk."

Dean played with the hem of his shirt, realizing that beyond everything else, he had another thing to deal with now- Tony. He felt like a little kid again at the prospect of having to explain why they left, why he never called or got in touch, and the only thing he could imagine being worse than that is the thought of Tony just walking away now that Dean wasn't a case on his desk. He figured that besides Sam dating his niece, there wasn't any reason Tony would want to talk to him, want to reconnect. He probably couldn't believe that a kid he mentored turned out to be a suspect in a case- yeah, that's probably why he was so damn surprised. Who wants to have their name attached to that kind of crazy, even if he was innocent?

Hearing Lucy's words spurred Tony into action and he pushed his way past Gibbs, Abby, and Ziva, determined to go speak to Dean and Sam himself. Lucy attempted to follow him, but was stopped by Gibbs hand on her arm. She turned to glare at the older man who she usually adored, tugging at her arm.

"Let me go, Jethro. I want to see my boyfriend."

"I don't think so." Gibbs was every inch an overprotective parent as he pulled Lucy to his side, keeping her there with a hand on his shoulder. "He's too old for you, Lucy. You're staying with me."

"Ты не мой опекун." Lucy pulled away from his embrace, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. "Tony knows how old Sam is."

"Он не должен позволить вам дату кто-то старый."

"You're such a hypocrite," Lucy laughed bitterly, moving further away from Gibbs. "If I were five years older, you wouldn't be saying that and you know it."

"You aren't five years older, Lucy. You're seventeen. He's too old for you."

"AND YOU AREN'T IN CHARGE OF ME! YOU'RE NOT EVEN RELATED TO ME!" Lucy forced her way past Gibbs and into the interrogation room, slamming the door behind her. "Talk to your friend so we can get out of here, please."

Surprised by Lucy's outburst at the person who was arguably her favorite, Tony blinked, not even moving for a minute. Finally, he turned to Dean. "They found a virus in your email. Someone was piggy-backing your identity to sell state secrets. Dean," he breathed out heavily, resisting the urge to pinch his nose, "Do you know anyone who would want to do this to you? Who would want to ruin you?"

Out in the hall, Ziva stared after the little spitfire, not sure what to say. Finally, she turned to Gibbs. "His niece speaks Russian?"

"Cousin, technically. His uncle had her late in life. She's a polyglot. She speaks more languages than you do." Gibbs was also glaring at the door, half tempted to go into the interrogation room and snatch Lucy back up. He couldn't help but want to protect the girl, DiNozzo had no experience with kids, and Lucy needed a strong hand.

"That is impossible." Ziva dismissed the claim with the immature ease that she often used when someone else was better than her at something. "I am fluent in ten languages. How could a child speak more than I do?"

Gibbs turned his glare onto her, looming over her. "She speaks, reads, and writes eighteen fluently. She can speak another ten. I suggest you avoid talking about her like that where DiNozzo can hear you."

Dean felt like a teenager being lectured for losing his house keys, and it coming from Tony kept him from snapping at him. He didn't want to make things any worse or more uncomfortable, and acting like a two year old certainly wouldn't help his case. Besides, Tony never did put up with his stupid bullshit. He had a way of cutting straight through all of that.

"I'm not exactly a ball of rainbows and giggles," he said quietly, looking down at his hands. He was kinda ashamed of the fact that he'd made so many enemies- like he should've learned how to handle people better. He just didn't have it in him to make nice when he knew he was right. "I've made some enemies in high and low places, but I can't think of anyone who would do this. I can't really imagine anyone who would, either."

He knew he probably sounded naive, but this really was unfathomable to him. He wouldn't have ever imagined to do this to even his worst enemy.

He looked over at Lucy, giving her a small smirk. Clearly someone had gotten on her bad side. He never admitted it, but he kinda liked Sammy's angry little gremlin girlfriend.  
"Maybe it was you," he joked, "You hate me, did you try to get me locked up for stealing my brother back from you?" He didn't mean anything honest by it, he just hoped he could get her to stop scowling so hard that she was gonna pop a blood vessel.

Sam was already by Lucy's side, his hand running lightly up and down her back. He'd heard what Gibbs said- nothing upset Lucy more than being treated like a child, especially when it came to the subject of them dating. He had to admit- it bothered him too. But Lucy's intelligence and mentality far surpassed her age, and he wasn't above admitting that he enjoyed that mixed with her wild, impetuously childish nature. Still, it did hurt when even his own mother had lightly criticized him for her age, saying, "I just wish you would wait until she's 18. She's still just a baby."

He leaned down, kissing her cheek. Normally, he wouldn't do more than hold her hand in front of Tony, but he hoped maybe the agent was more fixated on Dean when he did it.

"He's just protective," he whispered in her ear, "It's not the worst thing in the world."

"He's overprotective, Sam. I'm a legal adult in Britain. I don't need someone treating me like I'm a child here. Especially not in front of her. After the things Uncle Tony has told me about her, I refuse to show that woman any weaknesses. Jethro knows that I don't like being treated like a child in front of strangers. He shouldn't have done that. That, however, is not why we're here. We're here because someone framed your brother. Dean, I don't hate you," Lucy stuck her tongue out at Dean around Sam's body, snuggling into her boyfriend's body. "Besides, I wouldn't frame you for treason if I did. I would tell all of the girls in your favorite bar that you had genital herpes. That would be far more effective than hacking into the military's secure server."

Sam surrendered, knowing when he was beat- she was mad, and like his mother always said, "She'll stay mad till she gets glad." Besides, if he pushed much more than this, he knew she'd stop being mad at Gibbs and start being mad at him. He shrugged, hugging her as she snuggled against him and rolling his eyes.

Dean felt about two inches tall when Lucy made that remark, his face and neck going red. That was one of the many things he had decided not to mention to Tony, and now he had to decide if he was going to play along with it, or admit something far more embarrassing.

"Dean," it was difficult, ignoring Lucy's harmless comment, but Tony pushed past it, focusing on Dean instead, "There's someone that you've run into, someone with higher clearance than you, who comes off as just a bit slimy. It might not seem like they would sell secrets, but you would get the feeling like they would do just about anything else for money. They might not hate you, exactly, but they're acerbic when you talk. Can you think about anyone like that?"

In a rare show of maturity when she was around Dean, Lucy bit her tongue, keeping the sarcastic comment she'd thought of to herself. Instead, she poked Sam in the side, looking up at him. "That guy from the exchange the last time your mum sent us to get groceries," she said, "remember? The one who gave me the creeps? He's an officer, isn't he? Would he do something like this?"

For the first time in this whole situation, he was actually thankful that he was in this spot. And then Lucy saved him from the blank in his mind.

Sam thought about it, nodding. He remembered who she was talking about- he was pretty slimy, and unlike Dean, he wouldn't put something like this past a fair number of people.

"Yeah, I do," he said, "I'm not sure if I know who he was though, Lu."

"This kid," he growled, resting his forehead against the heels of his palms, "Can tell you what section 5 subsection A-1 of the Geneva convention is, but he can't remember a creep from the exchange," he glanced up at Tony briefly, "Or you."

"I'm sorry," Sam said in a slightly injured tone, biting his lip. Dean scrubbed at the top of his head, sitting up fully.

"It's fine," Dean said, "S'not your fault. I'm just...not really in the mindset to deal with this right now." He looked up at Tony with pleading eyes, "Can we do this somewhere else?"

"Yeah, come on." Tony headed towards the door, his usual 'NCIS mask' slipping onto his face. "I'm going to have to take you into protective custody until we figure out who it is that decided to frame you for treason, but my apartment is an approved safe house. We'll go there."

He opened the door reluctantly, not ready to return to the world outside these people, to face the accusations and questions he knew would come from the team. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was their questions about Lucy, about Dean, about anything. Still, it would have to be done.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is full of a lot of emotional upheaval.

In the bullpen, as expected, Ziva wasted no time, pouncing on him the minute he rounded his desk. At first, it had been offputting, the way she would physically force her way into his personal space when he knew something that she felt entitled to know. Tony disliked having close physical contact with anyone who regularly carried knives on principle, and Ziva never left her knives behind. Now, it was only amusing. She still hadn't figured out that he would only tell her what he felt she needed to know. No amount of physical threatening would get anything out of him. "Tony! You did not tell us that your uncle left his daughter in your custody. Why?"

"It wasn't any of your business, Ziva." He grabbed his backpack, stuffing his sketchbook into it. Maybe Lucy would be able to give him enough details for a composite sketch. Taking a minute to shut down his computer and put away his case files, he glanced up at her, annoyed. "It was a family issue, so I kept it in the family."

"Yet Gibbs knew," she pointed out, leaning over his desk. "Why is it that Gibbs knew yet you did not tell anyone else? That is very unlike you. What has happened to make you start keeping secrets?"

"That, Officer David, is none of your business. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take Lance Corporal Winchester into protective custody until we find out who is trying to frame him for treason. We'll be going to my apartment."

Without another word, Tony moved around his desk, leaving the bullpen. He led Dean, Sam, and Lucy to the elevator, allowing all of them to enter before he followed them in. "Lucy, I need you to go home with Sam tonight. Whoever is after Dean may come after him if they find out that he's left NCIS. You'll be safest if you're somewhere away from him. Sam, ask your mom if you can stay at her place."

"That isn't going to happen." Lucy gave Tony a look, as if to ask him if he was stupid. She hated being separated from Tony, had since she moved in with him back in February. He suspected that it had to do with Uncle Clive's death, but he hadn't asked yet. "Sam isn't going to leave Dean, and you know it. We're all staying. I'm not going to let you have all the fun."

Tony shot a glance over her head at Sam, begging the other man to do something, to convince the girl to go somewhere safe. He wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to her while he was protecting Dean. She was his ward, and it was his job to keep her safe. That would always come first with him. Her safety mattered more than anything, even his discomfort with the fact that her boyfriend was so much older than her.

"Besides," Lucy continued, clearly believing that logic was on her side. "How much safer could I be than in a house with a trained sniper and a special agent?"

Sam and Dean both caught Tony's look, glancing at one another. Sam waited for a sign from Dean, the yes or no, before he would react. Dean barely jerked his chin, and Sam sighed. Dean wanted Sam to go with what Tony wanted. He didn't like it- Lucy was right, if he had his way, Dean wasn't going to leave his sight until this was all taken care of, but he'd learned a long time ago that not respecting what Dean wanted, especially when he was under duress, would just make him worse.

"Lu, I think we'd better just go back to my place," he said firmly, "We'll stay for a bit and then go home for the night, and tomorrow we'll bring Dean some clothes and his things from mom's house."

"Besides," Dean said quietly, staring straight ahead, his voice lacking the usual sarcastic inflection that it took on when Lucy was around, "I'm not gonna get a minute of sleep if you two are there. And I need my beauty rest."

Despite the joke that was there, there was no humor in his flat tone. Sam knew that all of this was seriously fucking with his brother, and he was worried that now having to stay with Tony on top of it all was going to be too much for him. His brother was a tough shell to crack, but he shattered when it finally did. Sam knew the signs of Dean cracking well, and this was one of the big ones.

"You don't need to do this," Dean said, glancing over at Tony, "I ain't your responsibility. You have a family."

Lucy was clearly upset by Sam agreeing with Tony, but she bit her tongue, instead choosing to wrap her arms around herself and ignore the men in the elevator. Tony, slowly getting used to his ward's moods, chose to ignore it. She would forgive him eventually. Her dislike of being separated from him was something that she would have to get past.

"Dean," he hadn't used that tone of voice in eighteen years, since the last time he'd gone to pick Dean up from another detention that hadn't been entirely the boy's fault. "I'm not doing this because you're my responsibility. I'm doing this because the safety of this country is my responsibility. Keeping you with me isn't to keep you safe. It's to keep everyone safe. Whoever framed you, they aren't going to care about collateral damage. They're going to lash out at anyone in the way."

He hated having to twist his motives like that, having to make Dean see that it was for someone other than Dean that he was doing this, but the other man had been stubborn about his own safety when he was twelve. He had insisted that he was perfectly capable of protecting himself without any help from anyone else. Tony highly doubted that it had changed just because he was an adult now. At least, with them alone at his apartment, Tony would have a chance to talk to Dean, to find out just where the other man's head was. Regardless of the situation that had brought them together, it had been years- Lucy's entire lifetime- since they had seen each other last. Dean may never have left Tony's thoughts, but that didn't mean that Dean hadn't forgotten him. They needed to talk about it, before anything else could be figured out.

Dean was hurt by the response from the older man, but it was exactly what he needed to hear to be okay with leaving NCIS and going with him. He didn't want to endanger Tony just because he felt like he needed to personally look after Dean. He knew he had to go into protective custody, but he was pretty sure that they would've put him somewhere else before Tony's personal residence, and they probably would've drawn straws to see which sad bastard had to babysit him first. He knew it was Tony's job to protect him- he was an asset to the investigation now that he wasn't the suspect, and NCIS protected their assets until they were done with them. He just needed to be sure that was the only reason he was doing it, because he couldn't stand the thought of bringing anything bad on Tony.

"That's not what I meant," Dean said simply before turning around to look at Sam head on. "I want you to call Mom and tell her to go out to Sioux Falls to see Bobby for a while. There's money in the Vonnegut on the shelf in the dining room, she knows which one. Don't tell her what's going on, she'll understand."

"Dean," Sam began, only to be cut off. His bitch face would have been amusing in another situation. As it was, it only showed just how stressed he was.

"I don't want her in DC," he said, "Hell, I wish you weren't in DC."

"Shit in one hand, wish in the other," Sam replied, bitterness lacing every word, "Fine. But you're the one who deals with her when this is over, not me. I'm not fielding her questions again. Not after last time."

"Wimp," Dean muttered, turning to Lucy. He could tell she was mad, but she'd get over it. "Hey, Downton Bitchy," he said jokingly, "Watch out for him, will you? I'll take care of yours if you take care of mine."

"Unlike you, Corporal Pain, Sam doesn't need a babysitter. He knows how to control himself." Lucy glared at Dean, not at all happy with the circumstances, such as they were. She hated being left out of anything, especially things that could affect her family. Turning to Tony, a glint of mischief creeping into her eyes, she switched into Italian. "Si prega di non dormire con lui. Ho solo letto decente."

The tips of Tony's ears turned red as he turned away from Lucy, coughing quietly. "Don't talk like that, Lucette. It's indecent."

A snort escaped her as she turned her attention back to Dean. "Don't break him. He doesn't remember how to deal with people who aren't his coworkers anymore. He's fragile. You break him and I can promise you that I will change the language on every single one of your electronics to something that you will never stand a chance of translating. I need my uncle in one piece."

"Hey," Dean said loudly, pointing at her as she spoke Italian, "I am not." It's not like he even had a clue what she said- the only foreign language he knew was a few words in Arabic, and that was doing him no good here. He just liked pushing her buttons. He blanched when she told him not to break Tony, that he was fragile. He shook his head, being more serious than he'd ever been with her since he'd met her. "Got it," was all he said, following Tony out of the elevator as they walked to their cars.

Tony barely resisted the urge to squirm as he led everyone out of the elevator, taking Dean to his own car before turning to look at Sam. "You follow us. I need Lucy to give me a description of who she saw at the exchange and she needs to pack a bag. She has a lecture in Baltimore tomorrow night. I need you to make sure that she gets there." Don't let her out of your sight until we've got this guy, went unsaid.

"I can do that," Sam said, "We'll check in every few hours." And if we shift location, he thought to himself. Sam hadn't noticed while he and Tony were talking that Dean was looking around nervously, scanning the parking lot. Dean couldn't help the paranoia, dropping down on the ground and reaching under the car. "Dean, what are you doing?" he demanded.

"Back up!" he barked at him, wiggling further underneath, "I'm checking the car."

Sam didn't argue when Dean used that voice with him, taking Lucy's arm sharply and yanking her away. The only time Dean used that tone was when it was too dangerous- or he thought it was too dangerous- for questions. He writhed out from under the car, pointing at Tony. "Gimme the keys," he said, "I need to pop the hood."

More than a little bit dazed, not used to anyone but Gibbs taking that tone with him, Tony handed over the keys, watching as Dean checked his car. That should not be hot, he thought to himself, making an effort to calm himself down. Come on, DiNozzo. The last time you saw this kid, he was twelve. He was still convinced that seeing a naked boob was the best thing ever. You can't possibly be thinking about making a move on him.Yet even as he thought it, Tony was pretty sure that he'd already sold himself on the idea of doing exactly that once this case was over. Dean had been a rather important part of his world for two years when he was in college. It would be easy to make him part of it again.

Lucy watched Dean with interest, surprised at this more serious side of him. The Dean that she had met over the past month wasn't serious like this at all. He was an asshole; he was immature. The two of them spent most of their time bickering when Dean was around, which was far too often for Lucy's taste. This Dean, the one carefully scouting the area for danger, reminded her, with a pang of loneliness, of her brother. Just like Dean was now, Edmund always seemed to be on alert, looking out for any dangers. Seeing this side of Dean was a little awe-inspiring, if she was telling the truth. She'd never seen anyone like him. His paranoia blended well with the rigorous military training that he had undergone.

"Are we safe," Tony forced himself to ask, ignoring the small crack in his voice. He was pretty sure that no one would have had time to do something to his care in the time that they had been inside headquarters, or that someone would know that he was taking Dean home in his car, but stranger things had happened. "I've had more than enough people doing terrible things to my car, so I will be very upset if someone has managed to defile her again."

"You never told me about anyone messing with your car, Uncle Tony," Lucy cut in sharply. The look on her face could kill a lesser man. Thankfully, Tony was accustomed to it. "When did this happen?"  
Realizing that he'd just admitted to several different threats against him right in front of his ward, Tony cursed internally, moving to take Lucy from Sam's arms and wrapping her in a hug of his own. "Don't worry about it, little queen. No one is going to try and hurt me. It was a long time ago. I'm just fine, I promise."

Dean was absolutely silent as he popped the hood of the car slowly, listening for any odd clicks, any tension where it shouldn't have been and finding nothing. He reached in every crevice and opening, feeling for something-anything- that could be an I.E.D. They were deadly, they were effective, and if made properly- they were hard to trace. He rounded the car again, opening Tony's door and feeling around the inside of his door, under his seat, looking for wires or cuts in the upholstery.

Nothing.

He sagged over the front seat for a moment, relieved. He'd learned that any time there was one kind of danger, it was best to check your six for any others. He stood up, twirling the keys on his finger.  
"Don't worry, Top of the Pops," he said lightly, "No one's turning Tony into a Jackson Pollock painting. There's nothing hinky going on." He turned to Sam, holding out his hand, "I need to check yours. Fact is, they might not know which NCIS agent I'm with, but they sure as hell know we're related."

Sam didn't argue, simply holding out his keys to Dean. Of course, he didn't listen to him all the time, and he definitely wasn't the type to just do whatever he was told, but just like the man in the interrogation room was a different person, this man was too. Dean wasn't his big brother right now, he was a Marine. That was one thing Sam always loved about Dean, the fact that he made a point of separating the two.

Dean took his keys, gesturing for them to stay there.

"If there is something wrong with one of the cars, it's more likely to be Sam's," he said in a gruff, no-nonsense tone, "Don't. Move. From this spot."

"I don't actually think-" Sam began, only to be cut off by Dean.

"I'm not asking you to think, Sam. I'm telling you to stay put and shut up so I can hear." With that he turned away to repeat the process on Sam's car, ignoring them behind him so he could focus. It wasn't like in the few courses he'd opted to take- those were different. Those were soldiers around him that he was trying to protect, and that was a pressure he was used to. But the three people standing out there weren't soldiers- that was his baby brother and his gremlin girlfriend and Very Special Agent Anthony Fucking DiNozzo. And that was a whole new level of pressure and paranoia.  
He finished combing the car, giving it the all clear and handing Sam back his keys, the nervous energy in his body lowering, but only a little. They were still out in the open, and if someone was committing treason and setting him up, he wouldn't put it past that same someone to kill some people to cover it up, if they thought it would help. He was thinking worst possible case.

"Safety first," he said, looking at Tony's car, "She's cherry, Ton. I'd go ballistic if someone was sticking shit in her undercarriage too." Of course, Dean thought with a hint of amusement, Isn't that why you're usually giving my baby bro the stink eye? Don't want anything in her undercarriage either... "I don't like being out here," He said, walking to the passenger side door and sliding in, "Get in." He realized that he was barking orders, and that really was not the way to treat someone he respected like Tony. He gave him an apologetic look, quickly amending, "Please."

Tony slid into the car before the please even left Dean's lips, only slightly surprised at his acquiescence. He knew himself well enough to admit that he had always followed orders well, especially in his personal life. He waited until Sam and Lucy had gotten into Sam's car before starting his and pulling out of the parking lot. He was silent for a few minutes before clearing his throat. "So, Dean," he started awkwardly, "eighteen years. Long time."

* * *

 

Dean smirked when Tony finally spoke, letting out a snort of amusement. Long time, huh? Yeah, that was the second biggest understatement of the century. He looked over at Tony, an incredible sense of Deja-vu slamming into him full force. Sure, it was a different car, and he was taller now, and the circumstances were different, but the essence of the moment was the same as many he'd had in the best two years of his childhood. He couldn't count how many times he'd looked over and up at Tony driving, thrilled to be with him, to be special, to be special to him. Dean didn't know as a kid that some office worker had paired Tony and him together- he thought Tony had picked him out of a bunch of other kids, picked him special. Mary had tried enrolling him in the Big Brother's program in the next town after Tony, but he threw a fit. He didn't want anything to do with anyone outside of his family that wasn't Tony. He worshipped the older man as a kid, missed him when he was gone...fantasized about him when he was old enough. Tony was the first man other than his Uncle Bobby to give Dean the sort of attention he needed so desperately from another man. Tony saw the best in him, saw his good qualities, would stand up for him and take his side, looked at him like he was something special.

Just like he was doing again.

He looked down at his grease-covered hands, realizing that he'd gotten himself filthy and then sat down in Tony's car and was probably making it filthy too. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to touch as little of the seat as possible, flashing Tony a small but genuine smile. "Seems even longer when it's more than half your lifespan," he joked, "I just wish the first time you'd seen me in that long, I wasn't put in cuffs."

"I'd rather you have been on that end of my job than the other end," Tony said seriously, glancing over at Dean. "It's better, getting a chance to prove you're innocent, than having to do the other things I've had to do with this job. At least this way, I got to talk to you."

He didn't want to think about what he would have done if the first time he'd seen Dean again after eighteen years, Ducky had been taking liver temp. He didn't think he could have survived that. After the Winchesters had moved, Dean had been this sort of unattainable dream for Tony. He'd carried the memories of Dean cheering for him during every football game with him throughout his life. It was Dean's face when he got back from Baltimore after that fire that had convinced Tony that he really would make a good cop. It was the way Dean had turned to him after John and Mary had another fight that had Tony working his hardest on cases where kids were involved. Even if he hadn't seen the other man since he was a kid, Dean had been with him through those years. Dean had been his first responsibility outside of himself, the first person that Tony actually had to take care of, even if it was only for a few hours a week. Those years as Dean's Big Brother... they had helped him mature, to grow out of the frat boy that he'd been at the time. There was no way Tony would forget someone who had meant that much to him.

"It's been the entirety of Lucy's lifespan and then some," Tony said lightly. "That makes the whole thing with her and Sam even creepier, now that I think about it. Damn. They never tell you that parental instincts will drive you mad. They just let you figure it out by yourself and laugh when you're left to drown. Now I have to fight the urge to punch your brother. Again." He fell silent as he pulled out of the Navy Yard, turning in the direction of his apartment. "Regardless of why we crossed paths again, I am glad that we did. It's been... I missed you."

Dean laughed at his remark about Lucy, being a parent- it was something he didn't quite understand, but got it well enough. When Mary divorced John, he'd had to step in as the man of the house, had to play Dad with Sammy in a lot of ways. His mother was just one person, and he knew he and his brother were a handful, and it was Tony who showed him how to deal with his rambunctious little brother. He'd always kept the way Tony had dealt with him, spoke to him, as his model for taking care of Sam, and it was something he always wanted to thank the older man for. Tony had, in so many ways, given Dean the foundation of who he wanted to be. It was that longing for Tony that solidified his decision to become a Marine- he needed someone to reign him in, to teach him self control. Tony had done that, and it was his search for some kind of sad replacement that led him to the Corps. Of course, there was no one like Tony there, but he'd gotten most of what he needed. Just not what he wanted.

He looked over at Tony, just examining his face for a minute- older now, careworn, just like he was, but it was still the man he had so adored. And hearing him say that he didn't just remember him, but that he actually missed him made Dean feel something he hadn't felt in years. 18 years, to be exact.

"I missed you too," he said softly, clearing his throat a little, "I just didn't think you'd..." he stopped himself, because he knew he was reading way too far into Tony's words. He'd missed him, sure, they'd spent two years palling around, but there was no way Tony had the same feelings Dean did. Especially not if he had a problem with Sam and Lucy's age difference. He remembered all those times in high school, all the girlfriends he'd had, but when he was alone, all he thought of was Tony- his Tony, how beautiful he thought he was, what it would feel like to kiss those lips, to feel that strong body... "I figured you'd forgotten about me."

"Forgotten about you?" Tony glanced over at Dean, seeing just how serious his face was, and pulled over, waving Sam to continue on. When he was safely at a stop, he turned to face Dean fully. "Look at me, Dean."

Swallowing down years of suppressed emotion, of biting his tongue, of keeping his thoughts to himself, Tony forced himself to carry on. "I wasn't going to forget about you, Dean. Spending time with you, getting to know you, all those years ago... that's what made me grow up. You were just some foolhardy little punk who needed someone to show him what it meant to be a real man, to be a man who didn't rely on drinking and swearing to get through the day. I was an irresponsible frat boy with issues. When I was paired with you through the Big Brother program... I thought for sure that we were going to butt heads, that we were going to end up fighting. But we didn't. Dean, you may have just been a kid, but you taught me how to be a man, how to take responsibility for myself and the people around me. I wasn't going to forget about that. I was never going to forget you. You helped keep me from becoming a total loser, De."

Tony blushed at that long-winded confession, looking down at the console between them. It was uncomfortable, admitting just how much of his world had revolved around Dean after the Winchesters had upped and left Ohio. But it was true. Dean had become a sort of cornerstone for him, a grounding place when his life started spiraling out of control. Remembering the way Dean had followed him around, the way Dean had ordered him around the way he had his brother, all of it. It had kept Tony going. "You may not have thought that you were important to me back then, Dean, but you were the only family I had. You were kind of the center of my universe. I didn't forget you."

"Don't say that. You never would've been a loser," he said sharply, giving Tony an intense look. He hated hearing people he cared about talking badly about themselves, even hypothetically. To Dean, Tony was everything a man was supposed to be, every bit of the ideal that he'd always wanted not on to be, but to have. Dean never had any illusions- he knew by the time he hit puberty that he liked guys as much as he liked girls, and in Tony's case, he liked him more than anyone. He didn't know how to express just how much Tony had meant to him, what an influence he was. He didn't know how to tell him that Tony was the first love of his life, that Tony taught him what love was. He didn't have the words to tell him that his patience, his indulgence in Dean's attitude, his ability to cut through Dean's crap when it was necessary was something that Dean not only craved, but needed even now. He didn't know how to explain that in the darkest moments of his life, Tony's name, Tony's face, was one of the most important that came to mind. Tony was one of the strongest forces behind shaping him as a person.

"You were the first person I ever loved who wasn't related to me," He confessed, looking at his hands. He didn't want to look weak, not to Tony, and he didn't want him to see the red in his eyes, saying those words that he'd never said to any living person. He tried to cover it up, laughing a little, "I tried playing football in high school, my junior year. I got kicked out because I was always getting into trouble and my grades were garbage, and I sat in my room and cried for hours, because I thought, 'Man, if Tony saw me right now, if he found out I couldn't even get my shit together long enough to play ball like him, he'd be so fucking ashamed.' And that made me decide to join the Corps. Sure, I wanted to make Dad proud, but I knew it was never gonna happen. But I could make you proud."

"Dean," Tony paused, biting back the urge to say all the things that were running through his head. He was in the middle of a case, a case involving Dean. It would be unprofessional to talk about this now, to get involved with someone who had been a suspect just half an hour ago. Still, he couldn't help but reach over and grab Dean's hand, choking back the urge to cover his concern. It was more than obvious that the other man had been through some shit in the time that they had been separated. "When this case is over, you and I are going to sit down and have a long talk. I think that there's stuff we both need to get off our chests, and we're going to. Okay?"

He squeezed Dean's hand and let go, putting on his blinker so that he could get back on the road. Sitting here on the side of the road when someone had tried to frame Dean was hardly the safest thing, but he'd needed to get that off his chest, needed to let Dean know that he cared for him, at least in some way. He was hardly ready to confess just how emotionally invested he was in the other man, but he could give him at least part of the truth. The rest of it... that would be a violation of the trust placed in him as an NCIS agent. He would wait until after the case was over. Then maybe... well, Lucy wasn't the only one in the house who wanted to be happy. "Just for the record, you never had to do anything to make me proud of you. I always was."

Dean stared at his hand where Tony had grabbed it, the whole thing tingling just from that momentary touch. But it was gone when he realized- You idiot, he's a fucking special agent. You aren't civs. You were just a suspect in a treason investigation, and now you're an asset. You're busy pouring your stupid little heart out to him and you didn't even think about the fact that shit could compromise him. Get your act together. He realized that Tony had the same effect on him as a man that he did when he was a kid- Tony could look at Dean, or just have a normal conversation with him, and for some reason Dean would tell him the truth, even when it was important for him not to. He wasn't good at keeping big things a secret from Tony. Wasn't as a kid, and wasn't now. So when Tony told him that he was always proud of him, he didn't respond. He didn't say anything, didn't even react, because he knew that if he opened his mouth, he was just going to keep this Pandora's box open and Tony didn't need that, he'd just made that much clear. There was Tony DiNozzo, and there was Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS Senior Field Agent- and Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo didn't need Dean Winchester right now. He needed Lance Corporal Winchester. He crawled back inside himself, not wanting to cause Tony any more discomfort or trouble. It was bad enough that he was even there.

He knew now that Tony cared, and that was a huge problem in it's own way. Because before, Tony had just been a worn out memory, his favorite faded fantasy to turn to. Now he knew that sometime, somewhere down the line, there would be something. At the very least, they'd be seeing a lot of each other when this was done and over with- Sam didn't plan on letting go of Lucy any time soon, unless Tony had him arrested (which Sam had confessed was a very big fear for him). So he did the only thing he knew how to do when things got this emotionally complex. He shut down.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony watched as Dean's face went flat, as the emotions in his eyes closed off again. It almost made him open his mouth, confess to caring about Dean more than anyone other than Lucy. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that right now Dean was in danger. Instead of the confession that he needed to avoid, Tony sought to explain himself, anyway that he could. He needed Dean to know that he wasn't pushing this under the bridge, wasn't ignoring it. He just needed it to be put on pause until he could figure out who had tried to have Dean sent to Leavenworth.

"A year or so ago," he swallowed, "I was undercover for a case, deep undercover. I... was compromised. I let myself get too close to my target and when I did, her father tried to have me killed. I can't- Dean, we have a lot that we need to talk about, things that both of us need to say, but we- You want to protect your brother and I want to protect Lucy, but most of all, I think we both want to protect ourselves. Neither one of us wants to take the risk of this case hurting us any more than we've already been hurt. After we catch the creep who wants to ruin you, we're going to talk, and we're going to figure out how to make this work without hurting each other. Don't close me out though, Dean. I'm not ready for you to shut down on me." He pulled into his apartment building's parking lot, moving the car into his spot, and shutting off the engine. "Come on. Lucy's probably tearing the place up. Your brother is terrible at keeping her under control, just so you know."

"I understand," Dean said, his expression softening a bit when he looked at the other man, "I know that this situation is delicate, and getting caught up in the past can leave you compromised and put everyone involved in jeopardy. That's not something I want. But you need to understand that the reason I am damn good at my job is that I separate those two parts of my life- and right now, this is a hell of a SNAFU for me. I'm not used to my life as a civilian getting mixed in my career. I'm dealing with this the only way I know how to. I'm not shutting you out. I'm putting that part of me away so I can do what needs doing without putting anyone- including you- in danger. I can't control what the fuckface who has it out for me will do; to me or anyone else, and I'm not used to that either. I'm not shutting you out- I'm shutting out everything that isn't important right now, and no matter what I feel, this?" he gestured to Tony and then to himself, "Isn't important. It's just going to get in the way. You don't need to explain yourself to me. I'm not going to let you, or Lucy, or Sam, or anyone get hurt over this. I just need you to let me do what I do." He glanced up at the apartment building, opening the door and laughing, taking Tony's bait to lighten the mood. "Sam can barely control himself, so I'm not surprised," he replied with a smirk, "Lead the way, Very Special Agent."

* * *

 

It felt weird, leading someone into his apartment, someone who wasn't one of the team. Even Ziva and McGee had never seen his apartment, partly because he wanted to keep Lucy a secret from them and partly because he didn't trust them in his space. Sam had been there before because Tony refused to let him have any time with Lucy that wasn't supervised by him or by his mother, but Sam didn't count. Tony wasn't emotionally invested in Sam like he was Dean. Still, Tony led Dean through the building, up the elevator, and down the hall to his personal sanctuary. The fact that he couldn't hear music pounding through the walls was hardly encouraging, considering who was alone in there.

Dean followed Tony silently down the halls, trying to keep a catalogue of each exit, each entrance, each vulnerability. It was his way of focusing on anything but what he and Tony had talked about, his way of keeping himself going. He was still exhausted from the nightmare that had just ended- the nightmare of treason and Leavenworth and never seeing anyone he loved again- and he was just getting worse with this new situation- but he had to stay on his toes, stay sharp. Stay Alert.

"There had better be distance," Tony called out as he opened the door and turned to the wall safe. "I will handcuff you both to chairs across the room from each other."

Dean barely even registered Tony's call of warning to the two lovebirds inside- he was too busy focusing on what could be on the other side of that door. I'm way too tired. I'm getting Tin-foil-hat real fast.

"You do realize that you're a complete arse, don't you?" Lucy was leaning against the door to the kitchen, watching him put his gun away. "If I wanted to fool around with my boyfriend, do you really think that you could stop me?"

Dean let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when Lucy came into view, leaning in the doorway and being her usual charming gremlin self, entering and closing the door quickly behind him. He turned the only lock he could see before going on the prowl, looking everywhere for vulnerabilities. He noted, as he roamed, that if he was gathering intel, he'd be having a hell of a time- there was nothing personal he could see. In fact, he noted, it looked more like a fancy hotel room in a big city than someone's living space.

"Until you're eighteen, yes. Legal age of consent means nothing if your guardian disapproves."

"That's a crock of utter bollocks and you know it. Besides, Sam's a lawyer."

"And I'm a cop. Do you really want to test it?" Tony raised an eyebrow at her, watching as she shook her head, and smiled. It was an old argument, not even a serious one, but still one that they had every time Sam came over. "Good."

"You're an arse, Uncle Tony." It was fond, even if it was an insult, and she stepped into his personal space, hugging him closely. Tony always got the feeling that before she'd moved in with him, Lucy had been touch deprived. Not that he minded. Both of them could use some extra cuddles from a safe person.

"And you, my darling ward, are a child, no matter how many degrees you have. If he can wait until your birthday, which he will, then you can wait too. No complaining."

Sam came around the corner, blushing bright red at the topic of conversation. Sure, when it was just him and Lucy, he wasn't bashful at all, but he had a lot of respect for Tony and didn't want to mess this up. He knew Lucy was too young yet, but he planned on staying in her life as long as he could, and that would be a hell of a lot easier if Tony didn't hate him or got him arrested and put on the sex offenders list.

"Where's Dean?" Sam asked, looking around, "Was everything okay? He's alright, right?"

"He's off making sure no one is in the apartment, I'm sure." Tony turned and armed the security system, reaching up to lock the deadbolt that he'd had installed at the top of the door when he moved in.

"Paranoid Marines either go to extremes with security or neglect it entirely. I'm sure he'll be in here in a minute. Lucy, we need to get a sketch of the guy you saw in the exchange, then you need to get your stuff off my counter."

Sam watched as Tony locked up, folding his arms across his chest. He wanted to ask more- he wanted to know why they had pulled over, what was going on. He didn't like being kept in the dark, especially about Dean, but he didn't want to push- since Dean wasn't a suspect anymore and was in protective custody, Sam knew he had every right to make him leave. And that was the last thing he wanted.

Lucy pouted, jumping onto the counter in question and picking up a random book. "You don't find my thesis about using banal Arabic conversations as an alternative to heavy encryption fascinating?"

"Lucette, focus." Tony pulled out his sketchbook and a pencil from his backpack, leaning against the counter that Lucy was sitting on. "Can you describe him for me?"

Biting her lip, Lucy closed her eyes, doing her best to remember. "Dark hair. Cut short, but it looked like it would be curly if it was any longer. Square chin. Five o'clock shadow, but he had shaved that day. Blue eyes. The way he glared at Dean... it was like he wasn't sure if he wanted to kill him or..." She swallowed. "Possess him. It was... You're going to keep him safe, right Uncle Tony? You won't let this guy get away with this? Dean, he doesn't deserve that."

"Lu, I promise that nothing will happen to him. Even if I wasn't his friend, I wouldn't let anything happen to Dean. We're going to catch this guy." He finished up the sketch and held it up for her, putting the pencil down when she nodded that it was accurate. "Dean, can you come look at this? I want to see if you recognize him before we put out a BOLO."

Sam leaned against the opposite counter, resisting the urge to go and find Dean and drag him into his line of sight. He watched as Tony sketched what Lucy described, peering over his shoulder and nodding. "That's him," he said, somewhat unhelpfully. He knew he was more of a passive party in all this, but he wanted desperately to help.

Sam looked up to see Dean hovering at the edge of the kitchen, looking a little more relaxed than he'd been all day. Clearly, Tony's apartment and it's security had satisfied him. Dean reached out, taking the sketch so he could look at it better. He blanched a little, dropping it back on the counter.

"Yes, I know him," he said in a tight, flat tone. He hoped that would be enough, that he wouldn't have to go into more detail than that. He knew that was a moronic hope, but he wasn't just going to say it if he could avoid it, "That's Major General Michael Novak. He has a reason, I'm sure he's convinced himself."

"Dean, you're probably going to have to tell Gibbs what that reason is." Tony wouldn't push for the reason himself. He knew that whatever it was, it had to be incredibly serious to make Dean go flat like that. "I'll call him and get this BOLO out. Be right back." He left the kitchen, pulling out his phone and dialing the first number in his speed dial, absently noting that it was sad that his boss was his first saved number. "Boss, I have an identity."

"Give me the name, DiNozzo," he could hear Gibbs grabbing a pen and paper, prepared to write down what Tony had for him.

"Major General Michael Novak. Dean said that he was sure that Novak had reasons to frame him."

"Did he say what those reasons are, DiNozzo?"

"No, Boss. Whatever it is, it can't be good. The reaction Dean had... Whatever Novak did had Dean really upset. I don't know who this guy is Boss, but I think that this might go a lot deeper than just framing Dean for treason."

"That a gut feeling or wanting your friend to be completely innocent, DiNozzo?" It was worded harshly, delivered in a bark, but the underlying tone was genuine concern that Tony might be getting too close to this case, too involved. After Jeanne, Tony couldn't even blame him for the concern.

"Gut feeling, Boss. My gut tells me that this guy is dangerous, and that whatever Dean did to piss him off made everyone near Dean a target. I'm keeping Lucy and Sam here tonight. My gut doesn't think it's safe to let them out of my sight. Dean's sending his mom to South Dakota. I don't know what's going to go down, but I get the feeling that it's going to be dangerous for all of us."

Gibbs was silent for a long minute, probably weighing his own gut feelings about this case against Tony's. Finally, he spoke. "I don't like her boyfriend, DiNozzo."

Tony almost laughed, he should've seen that one coming. "I don't much see where it's your business, boss. Lucy and Sam have a very strict set of ground rules that they will adhere to if they want to continue to see each other. I'm not letting them run around all over town. Every move they make is something that I know about in advance."

"If you think that'll work," Gibbs trailed off, clearly reluctant to believe that Tony had the situation under control, but not pushing it. Tony was grateful for that. He didn't need another lecture in parenting from his boss, not when he'd finally found some sort of balance with Lucy. "I'll have a couple of agents at both ends of the street keeping eyes on your building. Don't leave."

"Yes Boss." Tony hung up the phone and lightly banged his forehead against the wall. The only silver lining in this was that he knew the security of this building and his apartment better than anyone. He could keep them safe in here.

Dean's face paled further at the thought of having to tell that old tugboat why exactly Major General Fuckwad had it out for him, and he debated on whether or not it'd be worth it to make up a lie. He just wanted to forget the whole thing. Dean watched as Tony left the room and Sam crawled up his ass, looking like a worried mother hen.

"Dean, if you-"

"I don't," he said sharply, "Just leave it alone, Sam."

Sam shut his mouth abruptly, seeing that Dean was in a mood. He knew that just like with Lucy, the more he pushed, the more stubborn Dean would get, so he just sighed and shrugged. "Alright," he said, "I'll drop it." He turned to Lucy and her paperwork that was everywhere, giving her a smile. "We probably should get this cleaned up," he said, "I'm sure Tony would like his kitchen back."

* * *

 

Sam glanced back to see Dean's retreating back, wandering off to roam around the apartment once more. He couldn't stay still, and being this powerless to do anything had him full of nervous energy. He didn't get far, though, before running into Tony finishing up his call. He tried to look as relaxed as humanly possible, which was probably the last thing he looked at that moment.

"I could use a drink," he said, rubbing his hands together, "You got anything?"

Tony looked up as Dean came into the hallway, shaking his head. "Sorry, I've been dry for a year now, nothing here." He doubted that he needed to explain why he had quit drinking, not tonight, when Dean needed to be the focus of his attention. "Boss said he's putting unmarked cars at the ends of the street, and I've got the security feed from all the cameras in the building hooked up to my laptop. We'll know if that bastard comes close. I'm keeping Sam and Lucy here tonight, but Gibbs will send an agent to make sure that your mom makes it off to Sioux Falls safely, someone who will provide very discreet protection. We need to go decide on the living situation for the next few days."

"That's fine," Dean said, shrugging. It probably was a good thing, in all reality, that Tony's place was dry. His self control was for shit when he was like this. He listened carefully to what NCIS was apparently doing to protect them, nodding. It was all well and good, but Dean couldn't stop himself from thinking of a thousand different ways that he could get past a security detail like that.

Tony returned to the kitchen where Lucy had haphazardly shoved papers into a book and grabbed it from her hands, opening it up. "You know, you should really think about using Russian instead of Arabic. Mossad will know what you're saying, some of the Taliban might, but most of them won't have a clue. They'll get suspicious if there are too many banal conversations in Arabic."

Dean followed Tony into the kitchen, back with Sam and Lucy, wondering how exactly he was going to survive being in a confined space with Tony, Sam, and Lucy without going fucking insane.

"This is why I haven't killed you in your sleep, Uncle Tony," Lucy leaned up to kiss his cheek before grabbing the rest of her papers. "So, you want to tell the rest of the class what you and Jethro planned?"

"You and Sam are staying here," he began, giving Lucy a sharp look when she grinned. "Not in the same room. You're going to be taking my room. Sam and Dean will share yours because it has the space. I'll be on the couch. No one leaves this apartment without an NCIS escort until after we catch this guy."

"You're such a spoilsport. What about my lecture in Baltimore? Do you know how hard it is to get an invitation to speak at their linguistics dinner? I can't possibly miss it."

Tony frowned. She was right that the lecture was important. As talented as she was at cryptography, Lucy's linguistics skills extended far beyond that. She needed to cultivate the relationships that would help her further her career, which meant that she needed to go to that dinner.

"I'll ask Gibbs to send Ziva with you."

"You want to leave me alone with her? Really, Uncle Tony? Does anyone else think this is a good idea?"

"I don't think it is," Sam said sourly, looking over at Tony, "She's not exactly a trustworthy person. I'll go with her and Agent David. Worst comes to worst, I am a pretty big human shield," he joked. Dean fixed Sam with an icy glare at his joke, not finding it amusing in the least. All of this was happening because of him, and it felt like every joke was being made at his expense.

"You do what Tony tells you to do and that's it," Dean barked at Sam, "You got it?"

Sam gave Dean a dirty look.

"You can't tell me what to do, Dean," Sam replied, "I'm not some squid." Dean folded his arms across his chest, raising an eyebrow.

"You're my little brother. That means you're always the squid when I'm in the room. Do as you're told," he said irritably. Sam blushed bright red, not liking being made to look like a whining child in front of Lucy and Tony, but didn't argue.

"Just because some asshole is out to get you isn't a reason to be a jerk, Dean."

Dean's nostrils flared in fury at that remark, turning and storming out of the kitchen, needing to get away from his annoying, overgrown man-child brother before he put his head through one of Tony's expensive cabinet doors. He slammed the bathroom door shut behind him, making Sam wince and jump.

"What, uh, needs done?" Sam asked hesitantly, looking over at Tony, "He needs sleep."

Tony watched the exchange between Sam and Dean silently, feeling guilty that Dean was right, that Sam had to follow orders. Truthfully, Sam wasn't safe leaving this apartment, just like Dean wasn't safe. Hell, Lucy was only barely connected to Dean and Tony wasn't comfortable letting her leave. Someone willing to frame Dean for treason would be willing to do a hell of a lot more to get their way. Until Michael Novak was behind bars, Tony wasn't going to relax.

"Sam, you can't go. Your brother was framed for treason. How much more do you think this guy is willing to do? Lu, I'll assign someone else to go with you if you think it's really going to be an issue, okay. Your safety comes before our desire for privacy though."

Lucy nodded silently, jumping off of the counter and tugging on Sam's arm. "Come on Sam. I'll show you where you and Dean are staying, and I'll get you some extra sweats that Uncle Tony keeps around. They might be an inch or two short, but it beats trying to sleep in your suit."

* * *

 

Tony let Lucy leave with Sam, headed to the bathroom himself. He didn't knock, knowing that Dean wouldn't actually be using the bathroom. It had been a habit even when Dean was a kid. When he was upset, he would lock himself in the bathroom so that he didn't lash out at anyone in anger. Tony couldn't count how many times he'd spent a few hours crouched down on a bathroom floor, talking Dean out of his anger. He did it again now, settling himself against the wall by the hamper.

"You know that he's just in shock. This is the first time that he's seeing just how dangerous being a Marine is up close and personal. Sure, he's seen you after your tours, but how much of the truth of your job have you kept hidden from him? I know you want to protect your brother, Dean, but sometimes, you can't do that as much as you want to. This whole thing... Sam's not going with Lucy tomorrow because it isn't safe for him. But I think you need to talk to him, tell him some of the things you've been protecting him from, see if it helps him understand your position on this. You can't just get high handed and expect Sam to accept it. He won't do that, Dean, you know that."

**Author's Note:**

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